Return of the Twins
by Milo and Wolf Inc
Summary: After 21 years, Fred's ghost shows up at Hogwarts. George, in an effort to be closer to his brother, accepts the post of Potions professor.
1. Chapter 1

Of all the places for Fred to manifest as a ghost, George supposed that Hogwarts was one of the few that he could live with (albeit unhappily). If only he'd manifested at the store, George could have lived happily ever after. If only a lot of things, he mused. If only Fred hadn't died in the battle, if only George had been just a few seconds faster. If only little Lily hadn't come home for winter break talking about how she saw a ghost, only it was a ghost that looked like George ("only with an ear, George! He was you. But with an ear."), and that the ghost hung around the Great Hall late at night when it was empty.

"How do you know there's a ghost when the Hall is empty, dear?" Mum had inquired when Lily brought it up during a lull in conversation at dinner. "Did you see him?"

The older children had fallen silent, curious for Lily to explain, but among the adults, whispers started up. George leaned in more and exchanged a look with Mum. "Are you sure it wasn't just another ghost?" he asked.

Lily shook her head, full of childish surety. She stabbed at the peas on her plate, apparently uninterested in continuing her story, but George pressed it and asked, "Lily, can you tell us how you met the ghost?"

"Well," she started, her mouth full of peas, "I forgot my Herbology book at the table, so I went back and got it and he was sitting in Professor Dumbledore's chair. So I told him, I said 'you shouldn't be sitting in Professor Dumbledore's chair!'"

"What did he say back, sweetie?" Ginny asked her, taking a sip of her wine.

"He laughed at me! He said 'I'd always wanted to sit in this chair when I went to Hogwarts. I figured now it wouldn't matter.'"

The adults glanced amongst themselves, unsure of where to go from there. That certainly sounded like Fred (although even George doubted that Fred hadn't managed to get into the chair at least once while at school), and the kids picked up their chatter again. George's oldest, Fred, leaned in close with James and they took up secretive whispering, not unlike how George and his twin had done themselves, since birth until Fred's death.

"Why don't you kids head out into the living room and let the adults alone for a while, alright?" Mum shooed the kids away from the table, and the boys that George privately thought of as the new twins both took their plates and hightailed it upstairs. "You remember to bring those back down, you hear?" Mum called after them. "Don't leave them to mold up there, or else!"

As soon as the last grandkid out, Lucy, passed through the door, it swung shut and a few wordless spells from Hermione sealed the sound in. She squeezed George's shoulder, then bustled around helping Mum remove the dishes from the table.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, and then at George; he sat his elbows on the table, his head resting on his interlaced hands. A strange look plastered itself across his face, and he couldn't decide whether to be extremely excited, or doubtful. Everybody knew George wanted to see Fred again more than anything, but it seemed almost too good to be true. A myriad of emotions rushed through him. He wanted to jump up and fly his broom all the way to Hogwarts at the thought of seeing his twin again, but he couldn't believe that after twenty-one years, Fred was back. George fought off the urge to break down right there; even after twenty one years, Fred's deaths stung like it had when he felt their connection disappear on that last horrible day at Hogwarts.

"What are you thinking, George?" Ron asked. He placed his hand on George's shoulder, and startled George out of his pained reminiscing. He plopped down next to George, and Harry took up the chair on George's other side.

George kept his thoughts to himself; even as he spiraled into a nearly panicked _I had to learn how to live without you, I can't unlearn that only for it to not be true!_ "I don't know," he said. In a sense, it was true. After all, it wasn't like he could honestly claim to have any idea what he was doing to do next. "I…need to be alone. Fred and Roxy are staying here, right, Mum?"

"Of course, dear," Mum agreed, entirely unsurprised by George's question. As far as she knew, the children were supposed to be returning with their father, but it was no problem to put them up for the night. Fred and James were practically inseparable anyhow, and Roxy got on well enough with all her cousins to be able to bunk with any of them. "I'm sure Angelina can pick them up in the morning. I'll send off an owl tonight."

"Don't worry about it, Mum," Ginny said. "I'll owl her. You should be resting."

Mum smiled at Ginny, and pointedly began washing the dishes. Ginny rolled her eyes and leaned on George's shoulder. "If my opinion counts for anything, I think one of us could go check it out for you. Just in case." She ruffled his hair, then Summoned her coat. "Come on, dear. Leave him alone to his thoughts."

"If you want help, you only have to ask," Harry said. George gave him a halfhearted smile, but it faded and he returned to staring blankly into space.


	2. Chapter 2

George pushed open the door to the Great Hall and slipped inside. It closed behind him and he stopped just before the end of the student tables. He hadn't been back to Hogwarts since the battle, but it was just like he'd remembered. They had taken great pains to rebuild Hogwarts to how it had been before, and it stung George. It almost felt like they were trying to forget what had happened. Of course there was the monument in the foyer, with every name inscribed upon it, but most everything else had been recreated and redone to match the old Hogwarts.

Even Dumbledore's chair was still in the middle of the Head Table. Headmaster Melbourne, an aged Muggle Studies teacher from a tiny school in England, had been more than willing to have George come in and look around. He said it was an honor to have one of Hogwarts' heroes return to her at long last.

But even as George took the first steps past the tables, his terror increased. What if Fred wasn't actually there? Would he even be able to handle the let-down?

He stopped and shook his head. He knew that coming back to Hogwarts had been a risk, but he decided to take that risk, he _needed_ to take that risk. He took a deep breath and continued into the Great Hall. He smiled; even after twenty-three years and a war, the Great Hall looked the same as it had when he and Fred had flown out on their brooms. The thought of Fred brought him back to the present and he looked around the hall. Nearest him were the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables; one of them had been the location of many a prank's planning, and he ran his hand over the wood, smoothed by thousands of students' use.

After a few minutes and a huge amount of _nothing_ happened, George sat down at the Gryffindor table, slightly exasperated. "What did I expect?"

"I don't know, what did you expect?" George scrambled to his feet and turned around. A young, ghostly copy of himself stood there, with his own characteristic cocky grin thrown right in George's face. "Wow, you got old! At least one of us retained our devilishly handsome looks."

George stared at Fred, disbelief and extreme happiness mingling in his expression. "Fred?"

"Nah, I'm George. You're Fred, remember?"

George stared, eyes huge, at his brother. Fred's smile deflated somewhat, and he took a step towards his twin. "You alright there?" he asked softly. "It really is me, mate. Fred."

Then, out of nowhere, George's eyes started to water. "Sweet Merlin, it really is you," he breathed. George reached his hand towards Fred's transparent face. He moved to stroke Fred's cheek but his hand predictably went right through Fred and George dropped it to his side. His legs gave out and he sank back down on the bench. Fred hovered next to him, although where Fred was thrilled to see his other half, George was more lost than he'd been before his return to Hogwarts. A few tears fell from his eyes, because all he wanted to do was throw his arms around his twin and cry his heart out. "It's been so long," he managed to say, after a few minutes and a few steadying breaths.

"How long?" Fred asked, tentatively.

George gave a choked laugh. "Twenty-one years, mate. It's been twenty-one years since- since Voldemort." He couldn't bring himself to say 'since your death', but Fred understood perfectly. He always had.

"Wow," Fred breathed. "Twenty one years. How's the business going?"

"Better than ever before. We've got stores up and down England, and before Dad died he was working on Muggle affiliates."

"Dad's…gone?" Fred looked lost and George felt that wound reopening all over again.

"Heart attack, they thought. Mum didn't want to press it."

Silence overtook them and George wallowed in his thoughts. Fred paced up and down Gryffindor table, feet a few inches above the wood.

"I have two kids," George offered, to break the silence. "My boy's named after you."

"Oh yeah? What's he like?" Fred asked, floating back down to sit next to George.

"He's just like we were. He's really close to James, Harry's oldest. He and Ginny married a few years after the war." George smiled; their announcement had been no surprise to anyone and Mum was ecstatic. She and Fleur had immediately started planning (though Ginny had predictably objected to everything they thought was 'just too cute').

"No surprise there, mate," Fred laughed. "What else have I missed?"

"Ron and Hermione got hitched, they've got two kids. Their younger kid, Hugo, is the same age as my daughter Roxanne." Hugo and Roxanne weren't the best of friends; Hugo tended to drive most of his cousins batty, but Roxanne tried to keep the peace between him and herself. Where Fred was loud and bombastic, Roxanne was calmer and much less inclined towards mischief and mayhem (although her moments, few and far between, were certainly worth remembering. A certain incident involving the garden gnomes and a color-changing potion came to mind.)

"Really? I wouldn't have pegged Hermione for a more-than-one kid type of woman."

"Hugo wasn't planned." Their conversation lulled for a few minutes. Fred looked down, thinking, and George gazed at him. He could scarcely believe that his twin was sitting next to him after so long without him.

"I can't believe I missed all of that," Fred mused, almost to himself. "How's Mum doing?"

George rolled his eyes. "Still going strong. She probably always will, up until the day she dies."

"That's Mum for you." They shared a laugh. Some things would never change, and Molly Weasley was one of them.

"Here's a bit of news that'll surprise you," George said slyly. "Want to wager a guess as to who Harry's other son's best mate is?"

Fred eyed his brother, mind spinning for possible connections that would give the elder Potter a heart attack. "Not the spawn of a Death Eater, is it?"

"One and the same. Draco Malfoy's got a son his age. Scorpius, I believe his name is. Al came home simply _raging_ about how fantastic his new friend was. Ron nearly exploded." To be exact, when Al had come home and mentioned Scorpius, Ron turned red and Hermione had to excuse him after he stormed out of the Burrow. "Albus Severus, he's named. Mostly he goes by Al. James calls him Allie."

"I imagine he doesn't care too much for that," Fred's bark of laughter filled the Great Hall, and George laughed along with him, agreeing with his twin. He could barely contain his joy at how great it felt to hear his twin's laugh again.

"Do you remember a little girl who came and admonished you for being in Dumbledore's chair?" George chortled remembering how Lily had described it.

"Oh yeah, she looked like a first year."

"She's Harry and Ginny's youngest, Lily. She told us at dinner a few days before Christmas that she saw me 'but with an ear', and I've got to tell you mate, it came as quite the shock."

George stopped, and took a few deep breaths trying to fight off the emotion that was threatening to engulf him. "But, despite how long it's been, I'm really, _really_ glad that you're here."


	3. Chapter 3

George surveyed the adult members of his massive family, all gathered in Mum's sitting room. Everyone, minus Bill and Fleur who were on holiday in France, was there and were awaiting his "Big Announcement". Ginny was sitting on the arm of the armchair Harry was sprawled in and Teddy was sitting tensely in the other armchair. Charlie and Percy were arguing in the corner over dragon regulations and Hermione was telling the both of them off for being stubborn. Ron was playing an intense game of chess with Victoire, who appeared to be winning. Mum was trying to force tea on everybody, mostly by shoving full teacups into their hands.

George wasn't necessarily nervous, but there was just a hint of anxiety, because he truly did not know how his family would react to his impending job change. "So there's no point in beating around the bush," he said. Everybody turned to look at him. When Ron glanced up, Victoire switched a rook and a pawn and looked angelic when Ron returned his attention to the board. "Five months ago I applied for a teaching position at Hogwarts."

The reactions of his family cut off any further explanation. Ron snorted, Harry sat up straight in his chair and exchanged a baffled expression with his wife, Percy and Charlie abruptly ended their argument and stared blankly at their little brother, and Teddy rolled his eyes and flopped back in his chare. "I thought this was important news," he groused. "Like you were having a kid or dying or something."

"Come again, there, George?" Charlie asked to break the silence. "You did what?"

"I applied for the job of Potions professor at Hogwarts," George said. "I want to teach."

Everybody tried to voice their opinions at the same time, but Hermione won out and her gentle voice calmed George somewhat. "I'm sure you've put a lot of thought into this, George. We're not trying to downgrade your…idea…but do you think you're prepared to teach? Students can be a handful."

"Yeah, mate, remember what you were like." Ron looked up from staring suspiciously at the board and Victoire shuffled a few more pieces around. Ginny hid a grin and gave Victoire a thumbs up behind Ron's back. "Oi! What is going on here?"

"Nothing," Victoire said sweetly. "It's your turn."

Somehow, George felt that they should have been more…something. More outraged, more supportive, more _anything_. Mostly, he got the impression that they didn't really care one way or the other what he did. In the back of his mind, his mind was throwing up the idea that they didn't think he'd be able to stick it out, and that prompted the rest of his explanation for dragging them all together. "I got the job and I start this year," he said flatly.

"Is this about Fred, dear?" Mum offered him a steaming cup of tea and he accepted it. His hands curled around it, but he didn't drink. He was too tense to even try.

"In part, I guess. I just—I spent twenty one years trying to accept the fact that my twin brother was gone and suddenly he's _not_. I want to be where he is, and that means Hogwarts." George looked down his tea and almost considered dumping it out to see what the leaves read. He understood why his family thought it was a foolish decision, but George had spent three weeks agonizing over what to do after his return to London. The way George saw it, he had three decisions. He could forget about Fred and get on with his life; he could go and visit periodically and feel the hurt reopen every time; or he could arrange to stay at Hogwarts. At long last, and after a great deal of drinking, he had come to the decision that there was only one option—and he went after that option for all he was worth.

George had aged and matured (to everybody's mutual amusement) and had settled down, perhaps too early, and it resulted in his marriage falling apart. Angelina had latched onto him after…after the battle, and George let her do it. It hurt the both of them, and not too long after Roxanne's third birthday, Angelina walked in the door with divorce papers. The only person who could have possibly helped George through it in the way that he needed was Fred, and here was his chance to have all that he needed back again.

He was proud of his decision and sure that he would be more than able to handle the job, but the lack of faith his family was showing irked him. Wasn't family there to support each other in every way? Yeah, the Wheezes hadn't been fondly looked upon for the first few years, but he and Fred had pulled through and now it was an international success. Teaching was nothing compared to managing an exponentially growing company while nursing a broken heart from death and desertion, not to mention trying to raise two young children; George was going to do to Potions what he'd done to Wheezes, and then nobody would be able to deny that it was the right thing.

Now, if only he could convince everybody else of that.

That night George sat down at his desk with a quill, an ink bottle, and a fresh roll of parchment. It was hard to figure out how to word it; Freddie was astute and would pick up on any accidental undertones to the letter, and George chuckled. He was so much like his mother, who read into nearly everything by habit.

_Dear Freddie,_

_I hope that the end of your fifth year is going well, I don't hear from you very often, but I'll take that as a good thing. No news is good news, eh?_

_I wanted to let you know that I won't be working at the shop anymore. Your aunt Ginny is taking over as chief operations officer in my stead, though I'm staying President. I accepted the post of Potions Professor in addition to Professor Malson; I believe I'll be teaching first through fourth year, and possibly a remedial upper level class._

_I trust that at this point you've met your uncle, Fred. If you haven't, he's the one in the Great Hall. He tends to show up later at night. Despite how long it's been since his death, he has manifested in Hogwarts. _

_I feel like I haven't been doing my duty as a father and so in order to be closer to you and your sister and Fred, I decided to accept the offer Headmaster Melbourne offered me. I hope that you are okay with this decision—I thought long and hard about this, and yours and Roxanne's needs were the deciding factor in me taking the job. Try to think of it as a way to spend more time together! I'm sorry that I haven't been able to be a big part of your life, but that needs to change. I love you so much._

_Dad_

George sat back and re-read his work. "That'll do," he said to his empty apartment. He got out another piece of parchment and wrote a similar letter to Roxanne, and got up to find his owl. Feathers, the moniker given to the owl by a four year old Roxy, was nesting in the miniature tree out on the balcony, and George attached the two letters to his leg. "They're for Fred and Roxanne," he told the barn owl. "Don't wait for an answer." He tossed the owl off and Feathers took to the night sky.

There was one person left to tell; Angelina, his wife of ten years and ex-wife of eleven. He reached for the pot of Floo powder and tossed it into the grate. "Rhododendron Garden," he told it. Angelina had kept the name of her house that the previous owner had entitled it, although on more than one occasion, both him and the kids had come out in a stranger's grate because of a mispronunciation.

He stuck his head in the green fire, and was pleased to see Angelina still awake at her kitchen table. "Hey, Ange," he said. She glanced up, and he was startled to see bags under her eyes. She got old-looking fast, he mused, but he kept that particular thought to himself. No need to bring about his own murder.

"George! It's late, is something wrong?" Concerned, she stood up and came over to kneel in front of the grate. "Freddie hasn't—"

"He's fine," George said hastily. "If he has done something stupid, I haven't heard about it. Uh, that's sort of what I wanted to talk about, actually, if you have a moment."

"Yeah, of course. I was just working on plays for the Gryphons. We're actually winning most of our games now!" Angelina lived and breathed Quidditch, she always had, and she had managed to come across the Aldeburgh Gryphons at the same time that their old coach was quitting, and had taken them under her wing.

"That's great!" George grinned, happy to see her so involved. After the divorce, a lot of people had mistakenly assumed that they hated each other, but Angelina and George had managed to switch from married couple to good friends with only a few minor mishaps, and for that George was thrilled. It made things so much easier when he got along with who was still his other half, though in a much less intimate manner than before. "Did either of the kids write you about seeing Fred, maybe?"

Angelina nodded, and her smile faded. "I can't say that I really believe it, but they're pretty positive about it. It's so hard to believe that he's back after so long."

"He's back, for sure," George said fervently. "You know how we were, back at school. Inseparable. I'm taking up an assistant Potions position at Hogwarts, to be nearer him and the kids."

Angelina rocked back on her heels, and a soft smile formed on her lips. "You never were one to do anything by half, were you?" she said, almost to herself. "And the store?"

"I asked Ginny to run it. She's only doing journalism for the few important games of the year, so she's got plenty of time to devote to it. She's already threatening to make changes." They shared a laugh, and George went on. "And any free time you've got, the store can use. Ginny's already got ideas for a sponsorship in the works for the Gryphons and she determined to turn me 'reputable'."

Angelina snorted and shook her head. "Merlin only knows what kind of store you're going to come home to, you know," she told him. George nodded, already very aware of that fact. When he approached Ginny after making his announcement to ask her to manage the store, she had been nearly giddy with the thought and had cornered him for the next two hours to demand information about the store out of him.

"She'll do fine, I'm sure," George said. "She's not inclined towards spur of the moment decisions."

"Whatever you think is best," Angelina said. "If that's all, I really do need to finish these plays. Keep me updated, okay?" She stood up and ignored the creak from her knees.

"Thanks for not freaking." George waved at her and she nodded. "Night."

"Night, you unpredictable loon."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey, this is Milo here. Due to internet issues (Wolf is going on a ten-day camping trip and I'm going to Texas, so neither of us will have internet) there will be no updates after this Saturday, the 13****th****, until late August. We likely won't have any contact while we're traveling, but we're going to do our best when we both have cell service to work on this. On the off-chance that I can get internet and that we are able to keep in contact enough to get writing done, there may be one or two chapters put up before late August, but please don't hold me to that.**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>For the second time in as many weeks, George surveyed a room full of slightly anxious, somewhat suspicious adults, although this time, he was facing the district managers, the chief financial officer, and the chief operations officer, among others. None of the stockholders had been invited to the meeting, because George found most of them to be stuffy and difficult and would rather let his CFO, Matilda Rosen, deal with them later.<p>

"I'd like to welcome you all and thank you for coming," George began. "First off, I want to make sure you all know how important you are to this company and to the success of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and that I hope I will always have your continued support in running this company."

Matilda raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair, and George smiled at her. She'd been with the company for nineteen years, since the third store opening when George realized that he couldn't manage everything himself, and he knew that she knew him well enough to pick up on his unintended verbal clues that something big was happening.

"The reason I brought you all here today has absolutely nothing to do with how the company has been run or my satisfaction with all of you; it's very important that you each understand that this decision in no way reflects an issue with Wheezes. Do you all follow me?"Spurred on by nods all around him, George smiled and continued. "I've decided to take a break from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I am not selling the company and I am retaining my position as president, but Ginny Potter will be handling day-to-day management and you are to treat her as you would me."

The reactions from his staff were primarily perplexed looks and a small amount of whispering to one another. Matilda, long since used to George's antics and surprises, managed silence everybody with the biggest question on all of their minds. "Does Mrs. Potter have management experience?"

"I'm sure she'll do excellently," George said. Sidestepping the question entirely wasn't his intent, but they needed to understand that Ginny had his full support, and that nothing short of their full support for her would do as well. "She will no doubt have questions, but I know you will all be more than willing to help her out."

"How long will you be gone for?" One of the Scotland managers asked.

"For the coming school year, at least," George said. He didn't even know if he would make it for all of the first term; teaching was not something he had ever done, except to explain something to Fred, and Fred always understood nearly immediately. Teaching would be…interesting. And new; new would be good.

"At least?" A blond, younger man near the back of the staff room asked. George didn't know his name off the top of his head; he doubted the man was newer to the company than a few months.

"I may decide to continue teaching. When I know, you will all know." George ferried a few more questions, but by and large, his employees mostly wanted him to know they supported him. After they filed out, he sat in the patent leather chair at the top of the table and basked in his happy feelings.

George headed to his office to get started on the paperwork to let Ginny take over, but that was only the start of his summer headache. Not too terribly long after he got the confirmation letter from Headmaster Melbourne, George realized that he didn't really know how to set lesson plans or teach potions. From what he remembered of Snape's lessons, they were given a potion recipe, a lecture on how not to fail, and basically they went to town on their cauldrons.

Outside, a few thunderclouds rolled together, and George stared blankly at them. Personally, he was against assigning essays on principle; he hated them when he was in school, so no doubt students would hate them as well. So maybe worksheets, instead? With all the possible answers listed instead of essay questions?

But what about the actual curriculum? George wondered vaguely if Flourish & Blotts carried books on creating syllabuses. Or—no, Slughorn was senile and barely functioning, George couldn't go to him for help.

"Is there nobody I know who's ever taught…?" George asked his empty office. How did a teacher begin to cover both what was important, and what would keep students interested?

Then it hit him like a hippogriff. Who, in all of George's years, had suffered through children and trying to teach all different levels of all sorts of subjects to stubborn brats? Who had managed to (almost) get each and every one of her children through school without too much trouble?

"I think I need to take Mum to dinner," George mused. "What do you think?" He directed he question to the framed photo on his desk. It was, without a doubt, one of his most prized possessions. Not too long after the down payment on the first Wheezes store, Fred and George paid a photographer to take pictures of the store. The boys had their arms around each others' shoulders, except for when they would try to push each other out of the frame, or turn behind them and marvel at what they had accomplished.

It would be a fine day indeed when George could get Fred's input on the store again.

Mum was startled when George showed up at her front door. "Put on your Sunday best, Mum, we're going to dinner!" he announced cheerfully.

Mum put her hands on her hips and stared at him, clearly lost. "Are you drunk?" she asked suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be working right now?"

George sighed and gave Mum a hug. "It's a muggle thing, Mum, and I'm not drunk. I want to take you to dinner."

"I'm hardly dressed for dinner," Mum said. She set down her dusting rag and glanced around the kitchen. "There's work to be done."

George rolled his eyes. Leave it to Mum to turn down a fun night to _work_. "Mum, please? I'll help you clean this Saturday. And you can wear that purple dress Fleur brought from Paris. It'll be great." Mum looked close to refusing, and George gave her his best puppy-dog expression.

"Oh, fine, if you'll stop giving me that look." George grinned, and Mum went upstairs to change. "And don't touch that!" she called down the stairs just as George moved towards the china egg on the table. "It's for your sister."

"You know me too well," he called back. He glanced around, and, knowing Mum's penchant for shawls, snagged a black silky one off of the coat rack by the door.

Within half an hour, George had Mum seated out in the warm evening air on the balcony of Evoe, an upscale French restaurant new to Diagon Alley. "What is going on with you?" Mum asked, amused, as George pulled out her chair and made a show of being a gallant gentleman. "You're acting quite strange, even for you. Have you done something illegal?"

"Mum!" George said, scandalized. "My days of illegal magic are over. Now I use loopholes in the laws. It's like being a lawyer, only less people want me dead." Mum looked stern and George raised his hands in an attempt to ward off a lecture. "No, I haven't done anything wrong. I want advice is all." George waved down a server, then return his attention to Mum. "On teaching."

"Mister Weasley! Welcome back," the server said when he stopped at their table. "And madame," he greeted Mum. The server was young, around Teddy's age, and was dressed to the height of upscale restaurant sophistication. George contemplated purchasing a silk waistcoat similar to the one the server was wearing, and decided to have his secretary track down a good Muggle store. "Might I show the wine selection?" he asked, proffering a silver menu.

"We'll have a chardonnay," George said. "And the potato basil soup for the appetizer."

"Yes, sir," the server said. He inclined his head to George and Mum and headed off.

"What part of teaching, dear?" Mum asked. "My, this _is_ nice."

George smiled weakly. "All of it? But mainly how to handle children. Merlin knows I didn't do enough of that with my own to know how to do it."

"Every child is different," Mum pointed out. "Look at Freddie and Roxanne. They aren't anything alike, and have to be handled in different ways to suit them. You can't give Freddie too much freedom because he's too young to handle it without help, but Roxanne can be left alone and she'll do the right thing. Pay attention to your students and they'll behave."

"You make it sound so easy," George marveled.

"Experience, dear," Mum said. The server returned with the wine and George thanked him, and waited for him to leave before continuing the conversation.

"How do I know what to teach them?" George sipped at his wine and glanced around, but he recognized only a small handful of people, and none of them by name.

"Figure out which books you want to teach from, and follow those, I imagine," Mum answered. George laughed; that one should have been obvious, but he'd completely missed that.

"You have the most logical answers to everything, you know that?" George smiled and Mum returned it warmly.

"Any time, dear," she said.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **Milo here. Sorry for the long hiatus; myself and Wolf have been busy with a myriad of end-of-summer things to do, and since we're no longer in the same city, it's harder to get stuff written. We're still working on this, don't worry! Without further ado, here is chapter 5: **

George denied it to everybody who asked, but he was beyond nervous. His first day of class had come up rather more quickly than he would have liked, and as of late, his thoughts were primarily focused on how much he hated Snape's class. Regardless of what the bastard had done for the Order and for Harry, he was still just the creepy old dungeon bat.

No matter what it took, George decided, he was going to be the teacher that everybody considered a friend.

He entered his classroom from his office and silently surveyed the students. There was something like 25 Gryffindor and Ravenclaw second years, but just looking at where they were sitting, he would have thought it was all one house. They were mixed up and there wasn't more than two or three of either house seated together anywhere in the room.

Already George could tell his classes wouldn't be like Snape's. For one, he wasn't going to forcibly separate them. As long as they behaved, George supposed they could sit wherever they felt like.

A few of the students noticed him and quieted down, but most of them continued their chatter. Roxanne was near the middle of the classroom, her hands waving wildly as she talked to the group around her. It looked like she was the center of attention, and George swelled a little with pride that his daughter was coming out of her shell. For most of her childhood, she was the epitome of a wallflower, and George's and Angelina's boisterous attitudes only made that worse.

"Quiet, please!" George said. He stood by the blackboard and the students shushed each other until the classroom was more or less silent.

"For those of you who aren't already aware, I'm Professor Weasley—"

"Like the joke store?" a little blonde boy interrupted. George eyeballed him, unsure of whether to deviate from his prepared speech or not, but he decided to roll with it.

"Well—yes. But that doesn't mean any of you can drop out of your seventh year to go open a store. Not a good plan."

"Why'd you become a teacher, then?" the kid asked. He was wearing a Ravenclaw tie, but the Gryffindor crest on his robe led George to believe that the child was either very mixed up, or inclined towards mischief and confusion. He'd have to be watched for a while, George decided, so that he could figure out which it was. Either one could prove problematic in the long term.

"I want to teach young minds about the wonders of Potions," George hazarded. The kid cocked his head and stared at George for a moment, but then he shrugged and went along with the explanation. "Anyhow, Potions is an extremely important class. You won't be doing a lot of practical potions in my class, but you will be learning a lot about how potions work and why they have to be done in such specific manners in order to come out with the right product. Potions can be used for nearly any form of magic, and the better your basis in Potions, the better your base in understanding other forms of magic."

"Like what?" the blond child asked.

"I- what?" George stumbled over his words, and eyed the kid warily. Maybe he had a stupid version of Hermione on his hands. That wouldn't be much fun if he did.

"Like what?" the kid said again, firmly. "What other forms of magic?"

"Like transfiguration," George said, deadpan. "Like the other classes you're taking."

"Even Arithmancy?" Lucy, Percy's youngest child and a Ravenclaw, asked. Her voice barely carried from where she sat near the front, but as far as George was aware, that was typical for her. She wasn't necessarily shy, so much as extremely quiet. She could talk a person's ear off as easily as the next child if she saw fit, but she so rarely did that it was unusual for her to verbalize more than a few sentences at a time.

"Uh..." George wracked his brain for any information concerning the maths magics. He and Fred had seen exactly zero point in it during their time at Hogwarts and so hadn't taken any of the classes. It apparently hadn't adversely effected him, seeing as he had never had a need for it, but he couldn't really tell the students that it was useless. Even if it was. "Yes," he said finally. "Because if you're especially strong in magic theory, you'll be much better able to comprehend why other form of magic work the way they do, and the better your understanding, the higher the chances that you'll be able to perform well in that subject."

The class stared at him, and George was painfully aware of the fact that he was quickly losing them. "But this class won't be all notes and boring lectures!" he said cheerfully. "I'm sure most of your parents had Professor Snape while they attended, and if they spoke to you about what his classes were like, you'll know that mine will be the exact opposite of his. Alright?"

He noticed that a few of his students perked up, and he guessed that some of their parents had told them about Snape. "So!" George clapped his hands and the chalk began writing on the blackboard behind him. "Today we're going to go over a simple cleaning potion." At the vaguely displeased expressions most of the class wore, George hastened to explain. "Don't give me those looks, this potion got me out of more than one grounding from my mother when I was young. This potion can get nearly any stain out of clothing, objects, and people. If you'll start copying down what's on the board, we can get started…"

Later that night George sat at his desk, hard at work on a quiz for his first years who were, hopefully, going to have read the first chapter in their texts before their next lesson on Wednesday.

"Hard at work?"

George jumped when Fred's head popped up in the middle of his desk and his knee connected solidly with the sturdy wood. "Prat!" George exclaimed as he rubbed his aching knee. "Actually, yes. I'm writing a quiz for my students."

"Well, look at you! A big Hogwarts professor now! I've been dead far too long. Are you sure you're my brother?" Fred grinned and settled himself on the corner of George's desk, on top of the inkwell.

"What have you been up to today?" George inquired. He inked his quill and his hand felt like it had been submerged in ice water.

"I've been appointed the Protector Against Peeves. Basically, the headmaster wants me to keep the first years safe from Peeves." Fred sighed dramatically. "It's a tough life."

"Death."

"Sod off."

George shook his head and returned to his quiz with a smile.

"I also had a nice chat with James. Big old sixth year now. He was telling me stories about Al and Lily. He kept calling Al Ally."

Fred prattled on about the students he had scared, and how he had had a multitude of confused and concerned students inquire as to how he had expired between then and their potions lesson with George. "It was quite the bore without you here, you know," Fred said from somewhere near the ceiling. He was apparently inspecting the ceiling, though for what George wasn't terribly sure.

"What about the professors?" George asked. He put the final touches on the quiz and set it aside to dry.

"Too busy with their work to bother with a ghost."

"The other ghosts, then?"

Fred snorted and shook his head. "The Grey Lady chased me off, the Baron is hardly what you'd call a good conversationalist, Nick complains about the Headless Hunt, and the rest don't come out enough to talk to."

"Well, I'm here now." George grinned at his brother, and not for the first time, wished that there was some way to bring Fred back.


	6. Chapter 6

The year got going without any major mishaps; to George's constant pride, none of his students were of the Neville persuasion, although Neville as a professor was fairly interesting. He was certainly the resident Herbology expert, to the point that George sought him out for much of his ingredients.

In fact, there had only been one cauldron melting, and that was intention on George's part to point out how dangerous not paying attention could be. The only long term problem had been Jeremy Hastings, the blond Gryffindor from his first lesson.

Jeremy had apparently decided on a course that would take him within a couple points of failing, by doing just enough work to pass without doing enough to get anything close to a good grade. Numerous detentions hadn't solved the problem, and the boy managed to distract George every time he tried to have a discussion with the boy about it.

At first, George chalked it up to Jeremy just pushing his limit, to see how far he could go with it, but he behavior outside of class caused quite the stir. He was constantly hexing students with little annoyances, like Stinging Hexes or Bat Bogeys, but even a serious discussion with Headmaster Melbourne didn't solve the problem. Jeremy promised, eyes wide, to behave, but next time a teacher's back was turned, he was back to wreaking havoc.

Jeremy got to be such a pain that, a week before term finals, Headmaster Melbourne called Jeremy into his office for another chat of a much more serious tone.

"Mister Hastings, do you know why you're here?" Headmaster Melbourne asked of the boy sitting at the edge of his seat on the other side of the desk. "You have been causing quite a bit of mischief this term."

"Yes, sir," Jeremy said.

"If you don't behave, you'll be suspended. Do you understand?" The headmaster stared at Jeremy and Jeremy stared right back, the picture of innocence. He wasn't bothered in the slightest by the idea; in fact, it was almost as though he relished it.

"Yes, sir."

"Can you explain to me why you've been acting up? You didn't behave this way last year."

Jeremy shook his head, all the while maintaining the eye contact. "No, sir."

Headmaster Melbourne sighed and stood up. "Please learn to behave, Mister Hastings. There are plenty of ways to spend excess energy, and hexing other students is certainly not on that list."

"No, sir," Jeremy said.

With no information forthcoming, the headmaster sent Jeremy back to his house, and Fred floated down to George's office to replay the scene. George just shook his head and chalked it up to childhood immaturity.

Unfortunately, he couldn't give quite the same explanation when he discovered that Freddie was going to be taking his remedial upper-level potions class the next term.

Freddie slunk into his office one evening after dinner, the day that George found out his roster, and refused to meet George's eyes when George demanded to know what was going on.

"I know Angie and I don't push you and Roxy as hard as, say, Percy does Lucy, but that doesn't mean we're going to accept failure!" George crossed his arms, and was hard pressed to keep his voice down.

"What do you want me to say?" Freddie yelled, under no such constraints. "That I'm sorry? That I'm not good at potions? Like it fucking matters!"

"Watch your language!" George snapped. Freddie's nostrils flared and he clenched his fists.

"So you're out of my life for eight years and then all of a sudden you decide to come back in and be an actual parent, huh?" Freddie shoved George away from him and stormed out of his office.

George clenched his jaw, and shook his head at his brother when Fred floated through the wall. "Don't," he said. "Not now."

Fred understood, and held off on commenting until George had calmed himself somewhat.

"He's too stubborn!" George exploded, after a lengthy silence.

"He's just like you," Fred observed.

George gave his brother a dirty look, but he couldn't fight the truth, even if he really wanted to.

Christmas, two weeks later, was particularly awkward. Freddie ignored him unless he had to, and Roxanne was torn between supporting her dad and supporting her brother, and solved the problem by avoiding them when they were in the same room. Mum tried to wheedle what was wrong out of both of them, but true to Fred's word, they were too stubborn to tell.

The rest of the year passed in stony silence. Freddie aced out of the potions class a month in, so George knew it wasn't a lack of skill holding him back, but without seeing his son twice a week in class and attempting to talk to him, it was hard to find out why.

"What am I going to do with him?" George whined to Fred, midway through April. "He won't even look at me!"

"Try apologizing."

A voice behind the both of them caught Fred and George off-guard and they swung around to find Roxanne in the door to George's quarters.

"What?" George asked after a moment of dumfounded silence. Roxanne closed the portrait behind her and plopped down on George's sofa. "What did I do?"

Roxanne rolled her eyes and Fred leaned back against the mantle, curious. "He's pissed that you and Mum divorced. He's always been mad about it. It's obvious."

It took quite a long explanation from the perpetually patient Roxy to finally get it through George's skull why Freddie was so angry, and once he finally understood he was able to apologize. The last weekend in April George called Freddie into his office, and was pleasantly surprised when the boy actually showed up. George half expected him to blow it off.

"Son, I'd like to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for overreacting over one failed class, and I'm sorry for not resolving this much earlier, like the old man I am." George stopped for a second, and surveyed Freddie. He was sitting slumped in one of the two armchairs situated across from George's fireplace, staring into the flames.

George leaned against the wall next to the fireplace. He ran a hand through his hair and continued. "And I'm sorry for not playing a bigger part in your life after your mother and I split up. I failed you in that respect, and I ask your forgiveness." He stopped again and waited for some kind of acknowledgement from his son. Freddie stared at the fire for a few moments longer, but then he glanced at George and gave him a halfhearted half-smile. "I can't fix my mistake but I can make up for it," he said earnestly. "I'm going to be the father that you didn't have, okay?"

After their talk Freddie began to open up to George, and though he did not treat him exactly like a loving son should treat his dad, he and George developed a sort of friendship that would eventually move into a more father/son relationship.

Throughout George's entire first year of teaching at Hogwarts Fred was there for the good times and the bad. Mostly he acted as comic relief for George at the end of a long day, or as someone to vent to, but more than once George was there for Fred as he had a small breakdown about being dead.

George would never stop wishing that there was a way to bring Fred back, but for now he could be content with just being with his ghost. And he was content, over the next thirty years that he continued to teach at Hogwarts until the day he died, five years after he retired.

The whole of the Weasley clan mourned his death, but not too much, for they knew that he was finally together with Fred again, causing trouble in the next life just as they had in this.

**A/N: Milo here:**

**That, our dear readers, is the end. Yes, it's shorter than expected, and yes, we could have gone longer. Maybe we'll come back to it someday when we're better at long term story writing, and we'll make it 100 times better. In the mean time, be on the lookout for our other stories. Thanks for reading!**

**Wolf here! Thank y'all so much for reading this. I hope that you liked the ending, and aren't too mad about the way we ended it. I'm sorry to say that we are not planning a sequel, so please don't ask for one. Other than that thanks again for reading! If you like Star Trek please check out the link on our profile for my personal account, Unleashthebats.**


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